


Congratulations, you are now the other half of one (1) whole functioning parent!

by ganymedejam



Series: Touch-starved Idiots [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Slow Burn, but he certainly pretends that he's not, parenting the little womp rat, soft!Din
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27890749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ganymedejam/pseuds/ganymedejam
Summary: The Mandalorian has to go out on a long bounty hunt and he has entrusted the care of the Child to you. You have ZERO experience caring for a child, much less one that's an unknown alien race, and you're desperately hoping that common sense will get you through. And in the end, you both are STILL idiots who'd rather pine privately than actually show that you care.Post-Chapter 12/Pre-Chapter 13. Din is referred to as The Mandalorian/Mando since he hasn't told you his name yet.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Reader, Din Djarin/Reader
Series: Touch-starved Idiots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037154
Comments: 11
Kudos: 174





	Congratulations, you are now the other half of one (1) whole functioning parent!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I keep torturing myself with this slow burn nonsense... I just want them to SMOOCH! Honestly I did not know wtf to title this fic so if somebody has a better idea please tell meeeeee!
> 
> Also, forgive me for how this fic is spaced out. I'm never satisfied with how fics are displayed on here.

“Uh, I don’t know anything about kids..” you tell him as the Mandalorian dumps the Child into your lap. Your arms instantly encircle the tiny green creature as you watch him get his gear together.

“I didn’t either.” he responds as he punches the code in to unlock his hidden armory. He selects a few specialized pieces of gear and tucks away a spare blaster power pack and gas cartridge, as well as extra rounds for his sniper rifle.

He happens to turn around and sees the kid wriggling out of your arms and attempting to climb its way up your front. He smirks beneath his helmet as you clearly display your discomfort on your face. Your mouth twitches like a pout, eyes wide and unsure while you grab the Child beneath the armpits to pry him off you. The Child struggles against your hold and starts to grab at your cheek with his tiny hands.

“He’s interested in you.” The Mandalorian tells you. “It’s different for him to be around someone without armor.”

“He’s-- _ah!_ \--” you pause as one of his nails graze your lip and you have to turn your head slightly to get away from the Child’s reach. “--like a tooka cat!”

The Mandalorian tilts his head at you. “Does kinda look like a bald one, maybe.” The Child turns his head to look at Mando and makes a babbling sound at him. You look down at the kid with a cheeky smile, “You just let this buckethead talk to you like that?” He turns his head to look back at you and makes a happy noise; his mouth is wide open and you can see his one big tooth jutting out.

\---

The Mandalorian finishes preparing, and he slings his sniper across his back. “I’m off. Got some quarries nearby I have to drag to Karga. Shouldn’t be more than a few days.”

You nod at him, rising to stand with the kid tucked safely in the crook of your left arm. “I’ve got plenty of repairs to do in that time.” He presses the button to trigger the hangar door, and you follow him close by as he walks out.

He stops at the edge of the ramp and turns to you, his cape slowly flapping in the wind. “Don’t go into town unless you really need to. Use your cloak.” he instructs, “Keep the kid in the sling close to your side. Don’t let anyone see him. Make sure you aren’t followed back to the ship.”

He pauses when he sees the concerned look on your face. Suddenly, he realizes that this is the first time a bounty has taken more than a day to complete since you’ve joined him. He’s annoyed with himself that he didn’t think to teach you anything before now--about the kid or about defending yourself. Can you shoot? Can you fight? He feels like an idiot for not even asking. Didn’t even consider the fact that this hadn’t been your life at all before asking you to come with him. He ponders the unintentionally selfish thought: you said yes so what was there to consider at the time?

The Mandalorian clears his throat and takes a couple steps back up the ramp to you. He flexes his hands at his sides, the leather tightening and groaning in his grip. His voice is soft when he tells you, “Just… just be safe. Be careful.” You blink at him, surprised at his statement. He notices and immediately shifts his tone to something more guarded, “I just got you to join up with me. I don’t want to have to be looking for a new crewmate. Or the kid. Again.”

A feeling squirms in his gut as you keep staring at him with unease, and it makes him grit his teeth. Slowly, he reaches out and presses his gloved hand to your bicep. “You okay with being alone for a bit?”

You shift your gaze to your feet and pull your free arm up to cradle the Child fully in your arms again, thankful that he’s there so you don’t look all foolish and insecure with your arms crossed over yourself. You mutter, “I have to be okay. I don’t have a choice, heh.”

“Y-you… look, you _do_ have to be okay with it but I am _asking_ _you if you are_.” he punches the words out. “Right now. _Are you okay_?” His fingertips dig lightly into your arm as he waits for you to answer.

“I think so?” you finally say, but your tone spells out your lack of confidence. 

“You-- _Maker, look up at me._ ” He grabs you by the shoulders now, pulling you over to stand straight in front of him, and shakes you just a little. His tone carries a sort of harshness and worry that you never heard from him before. The voice modulator lightly crackles with the sound of him exhaling slowly as you tilt your head back up to look at him. “Tell me how you feel.”

“Maybe I’m a bit scared.” you blurt out, your bottom lip trembling just a little. “What if I fuck up? I don’t know how to take care of him. Keep him safe.”

“Do what you can.” He breathes out a sigh, “Should’ve talked to you more about all this.” You don’t take your eyes off his visor, even with the kid squirming restlessly in your arms. The Mandalorian smooths his hands across your shoulders, down until the rest at your biceps, and somehow the gesture feels like he’s trying to wordlessly tell you that he trusts you with this. You wouldn’t be here otherwise if he didn’t have even the slightest measure of trust.

You keep one arm strongly wrapped around the Child, freeing the other to reach up and touch him on the elbow. “Yeah..” you say quietly, not really sure how you should be replying to like this. “I’ll suck it up.” You gently shove at one of his pauldrons. “Go on then, Mando. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll be back and the less I gotta worry, right?”

He nods then directs his gaze to the Child, and gingerly runs his fingers across the top of his head. “Now you behave while I’m gone.” Of course, the Child can do nothing more than blink at him and coo in response.

\---

You and the Child get through the first day completely alone just fine. Unfortunately, he gets restless by midday on the second one. You have to keep pausing your repairs because he just does _not_ want to sit still. He ends up wandering around the ship, looking for Mando. When you create a makeshift harness to keep him in the same vicinity as you while you work, he struggles against it and starts to cry. A few times you have to chase after him because he inexplicably gets loose, and you know that there’s no way he could have untied or bitten through the harness you made.

A handful of times you find him at the bottom of the ladder that leads to the cockpit, looking up at the door above and whining. You have to take him up and show him around so he can see that the Mandalorian is, in fact, _not_ hiding anywhere. Eventually you just stall your repair work altogether, and spend every moment trying to make the kid happy. What’s all that annoying junk that _real_ parents do? Whatever it is you can think of, you do it. Rocking him in your arms, pulling odd faces, talking to him, bathing him in the sink in the fresher. It’s absolutely criminal that Mando doesn’t even have any toys for the Child. There’s no books around so you’re forced to make up stories. Not that your imagination is _bad_ but it’s really hard to know if you’re entertaining or not when the kid doesn’t speak a word of Basic.

He barely eats his breakfast and lunch on the third day, and slowly munches on snacks the rest of the time. His usual fervor for stuffing his face is gone, and you have to all but force spoonfuls of bone broth and soft foods into his tiny mouth whenever you can. You take him to a village nearby, and the crowds do help to distract him--the new sights, sounds, and smells capturing all of his attention. You specifically stop at a stall selling handcrafted toys and you buy six of them for the kid. “Whatever. Not my credits anyway.” you say to the Child, who’s currently ignoring you in favor of a spherical wooden toy that rattles when he shakes it in his hand. Thankfully, nobody pays any mind and you are not followed, which eases your worst fears. He eats his dinner slowly that night, but you are glad that he’s even eating anything solid at all.

That night, he really starts to fuss. Mando gave you his permission to use his sleeping quarters while he’s been so you could be close to the kid while he sleeps. The incredibly tiny bedroll--which is nothing more than a worn out pad--made the nights rough for getting a good sleep. The third one is no exception. You barely manage to make yourself comfortable when the Child wakes and you can hear him softly whining.

You stifle an annoyed groan as you feel around for the lightswitch and tap it on. Dim light floods the compartment, and the Child rolls over in its hammock to face you with watery eyes. You scrub your hands over your face, then you sit up cross-legged in the bed and pull him out of the hammock to cradle them in your arms. He reflexively grips your shirt in his tiny hands, and he still whines.

You shush him as you pet him and massage softly behind his ears. “I know,” you whisper as you look down at him, and you can’t help but mirror the sadness in his eyes. “You miss Mando. I know.” You stroke your hand slowly down the back of his head and rub gently circles around his back with your palm. “He takes you everywhere, huh? Bet he misses you too.” The Child coos quietly as he sinks into your touch, curling his little body against your chest.

Your mouth curls into a smile. “Kid, I’m so bad at this. But I hope I’m doing okay.” He stares up at you with eyes half-lidded and you hope that the look he’s giving you means that he understands. You sit like that for a while, just rocking him in your arms, and you wished you paid more attention to how the Mandalorian acted around the Child.

An idea springs in your head, and you awkwardly shuffle your way out of the tiny sleeping compartment to kneel down on the floor. There’s a storage compartment directly underneath where the Mandalorian usually sleeps. You lift your hand to a nearby wall to tap the button that releases the hatch. It hisses open and you reach in to grab one of Mando’s spare shirts, then knock the hatch closed with one knee. You scramble back onto the bedroll and get yourself comfortable before carefully swaddling the Child in the shirt.

The kid looks absolutely comical all cocooned in the brown fabric with his pointed ears sticking out. You can’t help but giggle as you hit the lightswitch again until the overhead light is nothing but a weak glow, and then you settle yourself down and curl your body as carefully as possible on your side around the Child so he’s nicely nestled in its swaddle in the crook of your arm. It’s not the best of positions, and you know your arm is gonna feel it in the morning, but you’re comfortable enough as you tuck a blanket around you both.

Your idea works. The scent of the Mandalorian’s clothes puts the Child at ease. His eyes are droopy now and he struggles to keep looking at you while you quietly observe him, your head resting close to the swaddle. You breathe in the scent too--a plain soap covered by a woodsy, dusty scent like old split bark from a fallen tree, a hint of beskar steel, and a little bit of something that’s unmistakably biologically _Mando_ on it. You like it. You _really_ like it, and it makes you feel a tiny bit lonely for him.

Your head droops slightly as you feel your eyelids getting heavy. “Guess I miss him too,” you mutter to yourself, and you drift off moments later.

\---

The Mandalorian comes back after six days. Your comlink beeps and you hear the rasp of Mando’s voice coming through the audio. He says your name and asks for confirmation that you’re there.

You’re in the middle of soldering wiring to circuit boards outside the ship with the Child strapped to your back. You had hoped some fresh air would help him relax a little, and you put on the Mandalorian’s shirt you’ve been using to swaddle the kid for good measure. He’s climbed up a bit with his fingers digging in your shoulder as he watches you work. You switch off your soldering iron so the hiss doesn’t interfere with your audio, and you reply, “I’m here.”

His voice carries a tone of relief. “Good. Uh, glad you’re okay.”

“Ditto. You’re fine, right? You were gone longer than you said you’d be.”

“Complicated. I’ll tell you later. How’s the kid?”

“Ohhhh, he’s fine.” you reply, and you pull your wrist up so your comlink is level with the Child’s face. “Say ‘hi’ to the buckethead, kiddo.” The Child makes an odd squeaking sound and attempts to grab at the device but you pull it out of reach. You hear the audio crackle with his low chuckle.

“Come pick me up. Sending coordinates now.”

“Right, boss.”

“I’m not your boss.”

You smile as you swipe the tip of the soldering iron against the cleaning sponge; it hisses quietly as the heat evaporates the moisture. “You sound downright bossy right now, Mando.” you reply with a chuckle. “I’m on it. I gotta clean up my gear. Hang tight.”

“Sure.” The Mandalorian ends the connection after he transmits the coordinates to his location. You note that he sounded exhausted, which isn’t surprising given that he’s been gone for nearly a week.

\---

You balk when you realize you have to take the ship to an entirely different quadrant on the planet. No wonder he was gone for so long.

  
Mando had cleared out a space for a makeshift landing zone for you, and you set the Razor Crest down with ease. Before you land, you put the Child in his hammock in the sleeping quarters and close the door to keep him safe in there. You make your way down the ship’s ramp to find The Mandalorian sitting on a crate, resting with his arms crossed against his chest and his back against the wall of a building. The buildings are nothing more than ramshackle clay huts, but judging by the large pile of supplies and various goods outside and the bound and gagged quarries sitting off to the side it was clearly a hideout of some kind.

When he spots you, he immediately rises to his feet and sets to work, wrestling with one of his captives and shoving them into the carbon freezing units on the ship. You move off to the side to let them pass. The quarry turns its head slightly to look at you, but the Mandalorian grabs him by the back of its neck, forcing it to turn its head straight. You hear Mando mutter to the captive, “Eyes forward.” and ushers it roughly up the ramp. He situates the captive in the carbon freezing unit and turns it on, then leaves the ship to get the next one.

He stops and asks you to load up the supplies he’s piled outside while he finishes with the rest of the quarries. It takes a good hour or so to get everything finished up, and when you’re done the Mandalorian plops himself down unceremoniously in the co-pilot’s seat in the cockpit, groaning as he stretches his aching limbs. You climb the ladder to the cockpit, the Child in tow in the sling, and when you reach the platform you set the kid down in Mando’s lap and sit down in the pilot’s chair. He makes an agitated noise at you, but holds the Child gently nonetheless.

The Mandalorian peers down and thumbs at the Child’s nose. “How ya doin’, ya little womp rat?” The Child trills with happiness and grabs at Mando’s glove, squeezing both hands around Mando’s index finger. He spends some time just quietly staring at the kid and being affectionate with him, then he turns his head to look at you.

“Thanks for taking care of him. I didn’t mean to be gone that long.” he tells you; his voice is slow, carrying the weight of exhaustion and worry. It’s gentle, you think.

“We managed. It wasn’t so bad.”

He hummed at you and ran his palm across the top of the Child’s head. “And you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” you reply, and you smile softly at him. He can help but smile in return in seeing yours, though you’re unaware of it. Then, he notices something:

“You’re wearing one of my shirts.”

You blink at him and suddenly blush about it because you completely forgot you were wearing it. You stammer and keep your eyes glued to the Child rather than looking at Mando directly. “Um… well, the kid got really upset by the third night and wasn’t sleeping. I figured he missed you so… maybe wrapping him up in your shirt would help.” You end up lifting your eyes to him and the Mandalorian tilts his head curiously at you, but he doesn’t say anything and lets you finish speaking.

“It did work. He seemed happy with it. So I put it on if I had to work and couldn’t let him wander around.”

“The kid’s not an animal.”

“I know he’s not an animal!” you sputter, looking at him incredulously as if you were just insulted.

“Scenting. It’s what animals do.” he replies, chasing his statement with a chuckle.

“You’re just being a dick.” you hiss.

Mando laughs again as he sees you narrow your eyes angrily at him. “I am.” He pauses then reclines in the chair, his helmet making a dull thud against the back of it. “Glad it worked.”

You drum your fingers on your thigh and chew at the corner of your lip nervously. Why does he still make you nervous?, you wonder. “You should get cleaned up and rest.”

“Yeah.” he mutters.

“Gimme the coordinates. I’ll get the ship on course while you do.”

He tilts his head from side to side, trying to loosen up the tension in his neck. “Uh huh.”

You smile at him again, amused. “Are you falling asleep on me, Mando?”

“... uh.. nah.”

You rise from the chair and take the Child out of the Mandalorian’s arms. You tug on one of his hands and he slowly lets you pull him up. “C’mon. Shower first. Sleep after. We don’t need to be going anywhere _right_ away.” you tell him softly in an assuring tone. He _does_ notice that you take your hand away from his to circle around his wrist as you lead him to the cockpit door. Your hand shifts during the movements, giving him the slightest touch to the sliver of bare skin exposed between his vibrance and glove. He welcomes the contact’s warmth and doesn’t say anything; you don’t do or say anything about it either as he lets you tug him along.

You palm at the button to open the door. “You can get down the ladder, right?” He nods at you and makes his way down. You wait until he’s reached the bottom before you climb down the ladder as well. He unclasps his cloak and hangs it up off to the side, then sits down on his bedroll and starts taking off his armor piece by piece. You suddenly realize that you weren’t invited to watch and you clear your throat. “Uh?”

He pauses as he pulls the right pauldron off bearing his Clan signet and looks up at you. “What?”

“Should… I shouldn’t be here for this.” you tell him nervously, your eyes shifting off to the side and pretending that the nearby button panel suddenly became extremely fascinating.

“Oh.” he responds plainly as he resumes removing the pauldron. “I wasn’t really thinking. I don’t take my helmet off doing this part anyway.”

“Okay.” You breathe out a quiet sigh of relief, now free to be less nervous.

He begins taking off the other pauldron when he says, “Should probably know how this stuff comes off just in case something happens to me.” He pauses. “ _Not_ the helmet. _Ever_. No matter what.”

  
“Yeah. ‘ _This is the Way_.’ right?” you quote at him. He nods slowly. “This is the Way.” You watch as he strips each piece off and try to remember how everything comes undone, but you figure he will have to show you a few more times to get it right. Mando sighs heavily as he kicks his boots off then he just pauses, resting his forearms on his thighs and slumping over slightly. 

“Do you need anything?” you ask him quietly.

“... no. Just gotta rest.” He beckons you over. “Bring the kid here.”

You oblige him and hold out the Child, and the Mandalorian takes him from you to balance him on his lap. “Okay, kid.” he says as he jiggles him on one leg. “I _really_ need to sleep, and I know you haven’t seen me in a while but you gotta be good for a little bit longer.” He’d put the kid in the hammock while he slept but he had a feeling that the little womp rat would _not_ let him get a moment’s rest. Mando holds out one hand so the kid can grasp at his gloved thumb, and he gently holds the Child’s tiny hand between his thumb and forefinger. 

He hands the kid back to you. “Take care of him just for a couple more hours then I’ll take him off your hands.”

You smile at Mando then tuck the Child back in the sling you still have looped over your shoulder “It’s okay. I can manage. This little one really isn’t as bad as you made him out to be.”

A distorted hum sounds through the Mandalorian’s voice modulator. He gets to his feet and shuffles over to the fresher, and you find yourself really wishing you could do more to help when you see the exhaustion he carries in his gait. You tentatively place your hand on his shoulder; the gesture makes him tense for a second but he immediately relaxes, and he turns his head slightly just enough to look at you from the side of his visor. Your hand slides across his shoulder and down his back somewhat to rub your palm in a small circle against his shoulder blade. Your palm seems to vibrate warmth against that spot on his tired body, even through the layers of clothing he has on, and you feel him lean in ever so slightly into your touch.

You’re aching to circle your arms around him--to comfort him in some small way for all the work he had to do during this past week--and Maker, unbeknownst to you, does he want you to too. But you both are too reserved and stupid to do anything else. You push your palm against him, gently guiding him in the direction of the fresher. “Go on. Shower. Sleep. I’ve got the kid and I’ll have food ready when you wake up.”

He breathes out a ‘thank you’ and shuffles into the fresher, the door hissing closed behind him. Mando takes a good, long hot shower, and sometime during it you knock on the door and tell him you’ve left some clean clothes for him and that you’ll seal yourself and the kid in the cockpit. Once he’s finished he grabs a towel and messily dries his hair and stands by the door.

“I’m coming out. Don’t look.” he calls. He waits a few moments for you to reply but when he hears none he opens the door and cautiously pokes his head out, haphazardly obscuring his face with the crumpled towel in his hands. You’re not there and the cockpit door is sealed. The Mandalorian breathes out a sigh as he steps out of the fresher, stuffing the towel in his hand lazily on the hook nearby. He gathers up the clothes you set out for him, then climbs into his sleeping quarters. He taps the button to close the door and shimmies into his clothes in the dark then all but collapses onto the bedroll.

Mando grabs at the blanket but then realizes that there are two, one of which is heavier than the one he usually uses. He feels around and there’s an extra pillow there as well, and realizes they’re yours and you had forgotten to take them out. He’s honestly too lazy to get back up and give them back to you so he curls his aching body beneath the tangle of the two blankets. 

He flips his body over so he can lay in his odd half-side, half-stomach sleeping position, and his head happens to hit your pillow by chance. Mando still doesn’t care and he presses his face into the soft material. It smells like you. He enjoys it, a lot more than he really should admit. Clean. Citrusy. Must be that soap that you purchased your first wages on when the Razor Crest stopped on an interim merchant moon. ‘ _I wanna smell like something other than dirt and grease for once!_ ’ you told him after he told you to be more frugal about your credits, and you go on to comment that it’s infused with the oils from some kind of citrus fruit that also happens to flavor your favorite dessert. 

The Mandalorian has no reason to complain now. He can’t help but curl his arms around the pillow and hug it close. Though he does feel a bit shameful, maybe even perverse in a way for indulging, because he’s tricking his sleep-deprived brain into pretending that it’s you. The six days away made him long for his usual company and whatever rare comforts that come along with it. Now that you two have traveled for long enough that you’ve gotten used to each other, a feeling inside him grows. Craves for something more. Different. Close. You and the kid planted a seed of loneliness inside of him--a side of himself that he had denied in order to walk the path of the Mandalore as a grown adult. He buries his face into the pillow, breathes deep, and drifts off into dreaming about much happier things--fantasies that he [stupidly] convinces himself are and will always remain works of fiction.

**Author's Note:**

> smh can't believe I wrote all of this and there's not even any smut.... seriously, this is an eight page Googledoc...


End file.
